


lost

by deaddoh



Series: Epic Poem [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Greek myth AU, M/M, written like The Odyssey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-15 11:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18498031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaddoh/pseuds/deaddoh
Summary: “Thank you.” He says, with a lightness in his eyes and voice...





	1. found

                                                                        Jack,

the loyal campaigner, wanders, like a horse without

a lead. Like a dog with no master, an Eagle in

search of food. Jack walks to a home, seeing the

sun sink, Helios’ journey coming to an end. He

knocks and the door opens, showing a man with

dark hair and tan skin. Dark like the thunderheads

that Zeus himself controls and tan like a

stretched Ox hide. The man opens his door,

silently welcoming the loyal campaigner. The man

with hair colored like thunderheads quietly sets out

a chair to the dining table and places a bowl full of

heady, warm wine.

 

      The man of tanned Ox hide skin begins

cooking a small portion of beef. Jack of tired

mind sips at the heady wine. “I thank you for

opening your door and home to me, a stranger.”

The man nods and places the cooked beef on

the table and finally sits himself. “It is no burden to

me to help such a wanderer like yourself.” The man

of thunderhead hair replies with a warm, deep voice.

“Now, might I ask of you where you hail from? What

deathless God might’ve brought you here? If you

had roamed the seas like a sea-wolf, or a pirate?

Stealing what isn’t yours.”

 

      Jack the loyal campaigner sighs, heart

heavy with grief. “I hail from a land away from here.

A land with rolling hills, heavy with grape vines and

plump cattle and sheep.Cervus is its name and I

miss it so.” Jack sees the man with tan skin nod

urging him to continue. “The giant-killer himself

brought me here. As punishment for being a

pirate, stealing what isn’t mine.” The man now looks

weary, possibly afraid that the loyal campaigner will

steal from him.

 

      “I see the worry in your eyes.” Jack claims,

eating more beef. “But I assure you that I mean no

ill-will and only stole what was mine to begin with.”

The man relaxes only so. “What was it that you

stole?” Jack lifts his arm, showing a thin bronze

bracelet. “It was my dear mother’s before she

was whisked away to the House of Death.”

The man nods, “Ah. Excuse my bad manners,

I have yet to tell you my name.” The man of tan

skin says. “I’m Mark. A simple tradesman.” Jack

nods, finishing the wine. “Nice to meet you Mark.

I am Jack. An old loyal campaigner of king

Canadensis.”

 

      Mark nods and stands, clearing the now

empty bowl of wine and plate. “Here. Follow me,

I will show you your sleeping area.” Mark says,

leading the old campaigner to a room with a

small bed covered in a thick blanket. “I have

more blankets if you wish. I will go to sleep

myself soon.” Jack nods, “Thank you.” He says

with a lightness in his eyes and voice, truly

thankful. Mark smiles, pulling Jack into a warm

embrace. “I hardly know you, Jack, old loyal

campaigner of king Canadensis. But always

feel welcome.”

 

      Jack tears up.

 


	2. letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Loyal campaigner, please come back soon." Mark pleads, gripping tighter like he will lose Jack if he were to let go.

                                                                      Jack,

the old campaigner wakes to a wonderful smell of 

fresh lamb. The sounds of another moving and

making. He rises, like Dawn mounting her golden 

throne. Mark calls to him, “Jack. Loyal campaigner,

I hope you are awake, for there’s a feast meant for 

a king out here.” His voice sounds calm and

refreshed. Jack walks into the kitchen and sees 

plate upon plate of good, home cooked foods.

“How can I thank you, my dear host?” Jack 

wonders aloud, as he and Mark sit. “Simply

promise me, that when you depart from here, my

humble home and calm city, that you send letters.

Let words fly between us like the great currents of

the wine-dark seas.”

 

              Jack smiles, wide and true. Eyes gleaming, 

“I promise. I’ll send letters when I can. I’ll tell of my 

travels, the people I meet. The world outside of

your humble home and calm city. If you, my dear,

handsome and gracious host send me letters too. 

Telling of your grand trade routes and adventure.”

Mark smiles, eyes gleaming. “Of course! Old loyal 

campaigner. I will tell of beautiful dawns, and

colorful dusks.” Jack and Mark share a smile and

eat. 

 

              “Thank you, Mark.” Jack says, lacing his 

sandals. “It was no burden for me.” Mark replies,

with tears in his eyes. “Oh. Cry not for me,

tradesman. For we will send letters, letting the

words flow like the currents in the wine-dark sea.”

Mark nods, pulling Jack in an embrace. “Loyal

campaigner, please come back soon.” Mark 

pleads, gripping tighter like he will lose Jack if he

were to let go. “Tradesman, I will return. But, can

I ask a question?” Mark releases Jack, wiping

his eyes. “Yes, of course.” Mark says. “How come

you are so connected with me? I ask this, not out 

of spite, or hate, but of connection too. I feel a

pull, as if we knew each other before,” the loyal

campaigner admits, feeling a warmth in his chest.

Mark clasps his hands, “You simply remind me of

an old lover,” he says quietly, looking ahamed.

Jack smiles, “Don’t fear, I have no right or

place to judge.” Mark smiles again, “Thank

you.”


	3. dusk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mark, handsome tradesman of humble home and calm city. How are you?"
> 
> Jack calling Mark handosme? Check.

                                                                         Mark

gently brushes his fingers over the letter the

Runner gave to him. It has beautiful flowing words,

neat and clean. He unfolds the paper and sits,

abandoning his work briefly.

 

_            Mark, handsome tradesman of humble home _

_ and calm city. How are you? Has some merciful god _

_ given you peace? Or do the deathless gods plague _

_ your sleep and trade? For I am doing well, I’m on a _

_ solid, sleek black ship, cutting through the wind _

_ and waves of the wine dark sea. I will give this letter _

_ to a Runner when we reach land. I am on this ship _

_ for I have found my people. They miss me so! They _

_ welcomed me with open arms and tear stained  _

_ faces. They claim that King Canadensis has been _

_ searching for me. Said that he sent out ships to cut _

_ through the wind and waves of the wind dark seas _

_ to find me. I am flattered he cared for me so, but I _

_ find myself missing you.  _

 

_ Regards, _

_ Jack _

 

           Mark smiles, imagining Jack sitting upon

a beautiful, sleek black ship. Powered by strong

seafaring men, maybe with all sun kissed

shoulders. Maybe with the sail unfurled and full 

of a strong wind, taking Jack home. Mark puts

the letter down and pulls a new sheet for

himself. He dips his momentarily forgotten quill

into the ink pot and begins writing his own

Letter. Telling of a simple life since Jack left,

his packing for an important trip.

 

      Mark gives his letter to a runner as the 

sun sinks into the horizon, Helios’ journey

coming to an end. He stands outside of his 

humble home and watches the colors blend

and fade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAaAaaaHhhhhH
> 
> ngl, but i'm such a sap for cute letter sending.


	4. arising

                                                                           Jack

quickly takes the letter from the Runner with a

short bow. He closes his door and unfolds the letter

with delicate hands. He sits on the floor, quietly

buzzing with excitement.

 

_Jack, my dear wanderer. I am doing well, no_

_deathless god has plagued my sleep or trade. I_

_have good news! For I am coming to Cervus to_

_meet a client. And I am glad you made it home. King_

_Canadensis seems to care for you lots. I do hope we_

_will be able to meet up. It will take about a weeks trip_

_if nothing were to happen. Yesterday had the most_

_beautiful sunset I have ever seen. It had oranges,_

_reds, yellows, and purples. It seems that Helios is_

_getting creative. I hope we will see one another again_

_and I am flattered you miss me so._

 

_Your tradesman,_

_Mark_

 

           Jack smiles, wide and beautiful. Excited to

see Mark again. He stands and makes his way to

his table, finding a piece of paper and a suitable

quill to use.

 

         Jack folds the letter gently, placing it on his

table, for Mark when he comes. Jack places his

hands on his face, feeling warm. He watches the

sun set. Helios’ journey ending with an explosion

of color.


	5. sadness

                                                                       Jack

wakes to the sound of knocking. His muddled

mind pulls him from bed and to the door, as if a

force is calling to him. He opens the door and is

greeted by a man of tan skin and thunderhead hair.

Jack’s mind suddenly clears, seeing Mark in the

doorway. “My loyal campaigner, will you have me?”

Mark asks, opening his arms and smiling wide and

true. “Of course my handsome tradesman.” Jack

says, pulling Mark into an embrace.

 

              Mark’s eyes crinkle with a wide and beautiful

smile. At that moment, Jack’s world stops. As if the

gods themselves wanted to see Mark’s smile. The

loyal campaigner realizes, with his heart in his throat,

that he loves Mark. The Fates pulling upon his heart,

pulling upon his soul. Then, time resumes. Mark sees

Jack’s pause, seeing something deep in his eyes. He

too, feels the Fates pulling his heart, pulling his soul.

“Humble tradesman. Can I ask you a question?”

Jack asks, seeing the clouds roll over the faraway

hills behind Mark’s back. Mark nods, “Of course.”

 

               Jack takes a breath, hoping his question won’t

be ill received. “Don’t tell if it’s too tender, like a new

Wound, still bleeding. But what became of your former

lover?” Mark’s smile fades, a sadness clouds his eyes.

The clouds behind Mark stop rolling over the beautiful

green hills. “Don’t worry, my companion. The story isn’t

too tender. Not like a new wound, still bleeding. But I

still cry for him.” Mark begins, seeing kindness in Jack’s

blue eyes. “He was a music maker. Beautiful songs

flowed from his voice and fingers. A god-given gift. He

was beautiful. Black hair, smooth like silk. Brown eyes,

full of love and excitement. He had tattoos, beautiful

works. He himself was a work of art.” Mark says, tears

slowly sliding down his beautiful face. “I too, was an

artisan. I painted, drew, and sculpted. But had to stop

when my dear musician died. And I became a

tradesman. Too much time in our home. But he died

while away at war. He was forced to go. His last words

were of love. In the end, I was sent a medal.”

 

           Mark breaks, and a sob rips from his throat. He

cries, mournful and in pain. Jack rubs the tradesman’s

back softly, his own tears clouding his vision. “Oh

humble tradesman, I’m so sorry.” Jack says, wiping his

own face as Mark’s tears slowly end. “Oh my beautiful

campaigner, why cry for a widower? You are too pretty

to be mourning like me.” Mark says, gently placing his

hand on Jack’s cheek. Jack leans into Mark’s warm

palm, “You have suffered, my handsome tradesman.

Let me cry with you,” he whispers back. Mark smiles,

eyes red and full of hope. “Will you- can I kiss you?”

Jack nods, and they collide like ocean currents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, by the way the letters take several weeks to get anywhere and Jack was on the ship for three days.


End file.
